The Dictatorship
by sweet-revenge.75
Summary: The Enterprise has returned home from its 5 year mission to find the Federation has been taken over. This new ruler has control over everything, even marriages. When Captain Julie-Anne Kirk is forced to wed this psychopath, will Spock, who must find a companion in Christine Chapel, fly off the hook? Fem!Kirk/Spock. Loosely based on Ally Condie's idea for the novel "Matched".
1. Welcome Home, Sort of

**A/N: Bonjour! This is an attempt at a Fem!Kirk. Obviously, she's paired with Spock, because, well... But anyways, you may wonder some things while you're reading, like why she goes by Anne rather than by her given name, but all will be revealed with time. Patience, you will find out, I promise. Also, I'm an AP student, so my schedule can be very weird, so updates may be sporadic, but I will try to keep a somewhat normal update schedule for your sakes. I appreciate you all taking your time to read this, and I love feedback, even if it's just to say how much you hate it or love it. As of now, this is rated T, but due to language and later abuse, the rating may change, I will consider this when I feel I need to. I'd like to thank my Beta: G0ldf1sh101 and my older sister for their input and help. This has been inspired by many things, such as other fictions I've read, songs, and other books. As I stated in the summary, this is loosely based in some aspects off of Ally Condie's "Matched" series, which I highly recommend to anyone. Thanks again for clicking (or tapping) on my story, I hope you enjoy it. Read on, my friends! And sorry for the long Author's note, I try to keep them short when I write them!  
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The bright lights of the USS _Enterprise_'s bridge illuminate the crew going about their daily routines, with slight apprehension shown in their slowed movements. First Officer Spock stands next the captain's chair, eyes set ahead on the screen in front of him which shows the lights of stars that they are zooming past at warp speed. In the seat to Spock's right sits a beautiful woman with blue eyes that seem to acknowledge every movement around her. Her name: Captain Anne Kirk, savior of the Earth from the war criminal Nero, and the first-ever captain to complete a five-year mission in deep space, exploring uncharted territories, and _female_. Being a woman is what Anne was most proud of. Despite the attempts to change their social position in the 2000s, women were still not seen in the same light as men; the light that held courage, honor, dignity, and intelligence.

"Captain, I'm sure that you are well aware that the _Enterprise_ has been unable to contact Starfleet in 2 years, 1 month, 6 days, 10 hours and 1.2 minutes. Do you think it wise to return to Earth without knowing the events that have transpired over this period?" Spock questions his captain.

Anne stands from the chair, straightening her already straight yellow command dress and motions for her first officer to follow her to the captain's ready room. "Chekov, you have the conn," she orders as the two begin their short journey to the small compartment that is called a room, but is in no way big enough to be considered one.

The ready room is quiet and dark, the color scheme consisting of dark browns and blacks, giving a gloomy and ominous feeling. She sits on the edge of her clean desk, looking at Spock who has his hands clasped behind his back, his shoulders rigid. _Something's up,_ Anne thinks as she examines the stunning man in front of her. That feeling never goes away; you know the one where your heart flutters every time you see someone? She gets that whenever she sees her second in command. "Look, Spock. I'm confused as to why Starfleet has failed to respond to our transmissions. Hell, I don't even know if they've gotten them to begin with, but I do know that we are scheduled to be home in 45 minutes, and we are going to be there. I don't know what's on their plates as is, and I don't want to add to the burden they already have by doing what I usually do and blow them off. My decision is final," she says, looking him in the eye.

"Captain, I must advise against it. I believe it is in your best interest to stay away from Earth; it is illogical to," he starts before being abruptly cut off.

"Spock, my decision is final," she repeats firmly, sliding off of her desk and waltzing out of the room, her long blonde ponytail bouncing behind her. Spock just watches her leave, his eyes lingering on her for longer than necessary due to his uncommon state of confusion. She never cuts him off like she just did, and with this, the science officer determines that something has been off about his captain's recent behavior. She has been short-tempered, even more so than usual. Also, it appears as though she has an increased level of anxiety, which may or may not be due to the inability to communicate with Starfleet.

One hour later, the last of the crew is on a small shuttle ready to be transported down to hangar one at Starfleet Headquarters. Anne is the last to go down; she has to make sure that everyone else is off of her ship before leaving herself. She's sitting in the small craft next to Spock, who is eyeing her. To an outsider, it looks as though Spock is merely looking at the blonde-haired woman beside him, but Anne is fully aware that he is worried. _What is he so tense about?_ Her thoughts revolve around the well-being of her friend.

"Hello! I'm Yeoman James and I'll be your flight attendant for your journey down to Earth today," says a woman in the front of the shuttle. She has fiery red hair that's cropped around her face and she's tall, even though she looks like she's 21. Anne looks at the yeoman, and doesn't ever remember seeing yeomen on shuttle flights before. She turns to Bones, who is sitting behind her, mouth agape at the woman in front of them.

"Bones, shut your mouth, you'll catch flies," Anne teases before turning back to face the front.

"Odd," Spock mutters next to her.

"Clarify?" she requests, not understanding where her first officer is going.

"It is most intriguing that there are now flight attendants on small crafts such as this. It is most illogical to employ one to do such an unnecessary task," Spock explains, his voice flat. But Anne can see the gleam of curiosity looming in his beautiful brown eyes. She must admit he does have a valid point. Yeoman James is still standing, which is irking the captain immensely because she just wants to feel the cool breeze on of San Fran on her face again. It had been an agonizing five years, at this rate; Anne would burst if she didn't feel the wind in her hair again, soon.

"Due to new-ish Federation policy, I must take roll before we take off, so here goes," the ginger woman calls people out, making sure that the few remaining people on her list are now being transported down. Dully waiting for her name to be called, Anne sits in the uncomfortable shuttle chair with her legs crossed in front of her. "Captain Kirk, Julie-Anne T.," the yeoman says in a voice that's a bit too peppy for Anne's liking.

"Can we go now?" she asks bitterly in reply, hoping to just get off the damn space dock.

"As a matter of fact Captain, we can," Yeoman James says happily, oblivious to Kirk's blatant disrespect.

The trip from the space dock to hangar one is uneventful. Stepping off of the incredibly small grey ship and walking a bit from the shuttle to avoid creating a traffic jam, Anne stretches when she feels Spock behind her. "Commander," she acknowledges, turning to face him. She sees the remainder of her crew scuttling away in high spirits.

"Admiral Barnett has requested our presence in his office immediately," Spock reports evenly.

"Okay, then," she says, taking off in the direction of the Admiral's office. It takes two strides for Spock to match the pace that his captain has set, which is a slow one. Anne looks around the big, for lack of a better word, warehouse, zoned out from her surroundings and in her own little world.

"Captain, may I suggest that we quicken our pace? The Admiral sounded urgent," Spock notes as Anne sighs. In response to his statement, Anne looks at Spock and begins to walk quicker. Walking through the hallways of Starfleet Headquarters, both note the oddities that line the walls. There are posters of a handsome man called "Our Leader" everywhere. Anne shrugs it off as some new artist who's making his way to the top, but Spock on the other hand, thinks differently, he seems suspicious. They make their way to Barnett's office in silence, both of them walking with their hands behind their backs. Anne notices all of the men that seem to stare at her when she passes by. Spock must notice too because if looks could kill, every guy that had looked at her would be dead as he shot them discreet glares that only Anne noticed because all the passersby had been to pre-occupied staring at her. _What's his deal?_ Anne wonders as she looks at him. Granted, she likes seeing this protective side of him, it's endearingly adorable and sweet, but it's also out of character for him.

"Why are you so…," Anne starts. Spock looks at her, expecting her to finish. He smiles internally when she's at a loss for words and is just motioning with her hands, racking her brain to come up with the right term. "Grrr!" she finishes, looking at him.

"Captain, I do not understand your use of an onomatopoeia to describe my present behavior," Spock comments coolly, looking straight ahead.

"You're being really grouchy." She clarifies as they reach the elevator and Spock presses the button to call it. _Those hands,_ Anne thinks as she watches him. She is thinking of his hands and how they would feel if he just wrapped her up in his arms. She then moves on to think of what kissing him would be like, his soft lips pressed gently to her own when a shrill and demanding ding pulls her from her vivid and inappropriate thoughts.

"Captain?" Spock questions while looking at her. A blush finds its way up her body and into her cheeks as the pair step on to the lift. They stand in an uncomfortable quiet as they make their way up, floor by floor. After what seems to be an eternity to Anne but in all actuality was only thirty seconds, the door hisses open to reveal the bright 110th floor of the large building. Looking around, the pair sights even more "Our Leader" posters that seem to be crawling into every possible space.

Spock leads the way to the Admiral's office as Anne follows mindlessly, her thoughts lingering elsewhere. To be more specific, thoughts lingering on the man in front of her, who suddenly stops which causes the young captain to run into him. Before she can topple to the ground, Spock's warm hands grab her by the waist to steady her. She again blushes, looking at her black combat boots awkwardly as they stand there, his hands still holding her even though she is now fully capable of controlling herself. Anne jumps away from her first officer when the door to their right opens. "Our Leader" then suddenly steps out of the room and looks between the two before smiling at Anne suggestively and walking away without a word.

"Captain, Commander," Barnett says, holding the door open. "Come in, come in," he urges. Anne steps through the doorway, observing the Admiral. Despite his dark skin, he seems pale and tired. The way he holds himself is not as it was before, when he walked around professionally and with purpose. Now, he walks with his shoulders slumped and his pace has decreased greatly.

"Julie-Anne," the Admiral says affectionately, pulling her into a bear hug. Anne stands there, looking around the impeccably white room, unsure of what to think of the sudden physical contact.

"Uh," she grumbles, "you can just call me Anne, you know?" She asks the older man, pulling out of his embrace.

"Why drop the Julie, it's such a beautiful name!" Barnett replies. Anne swears she hears a sound of approval come from Spock, but she doesn't want to point it out.

"I don't know, I guess…" Anne lies. "It just takes too long to say Julie-Anne," she tacks on convincingly, sighing in relief when the Admiral doesn't push the topic.

"I see," the admiral replies while sitting in the white chair behind his desk expectantly. "Sit," he ushers, but both of the _Enterprise_'s crew members remain standing, looking at the frazzled man before them. "I guess I should cut to the chase," Barnett states rhetorically, glancing between the two officers in front of him. "The Federation is not as it was five years ago. It has changed drastically since you and your crew left. I won't go into detail, as it's against the law to do so. I just wanted to tell you both that tonight the Federation will be holding a ceremony for the _Enterprise_'s crew to celebrate your job well done and to look to your future." He stands from his chair, grabbing two manila folders out of a drawer and hands both Anne and Spock one. "Read these, as soon as possible," Barnett orders. "Burn them when you're done," he adds in a whisper. "Understood?" Both officers nod once before they take their leave, confusion written on the captain's face in the wake of this unexpected turn of events.

"Commander, may I speak with you momentarily?" the Admiral asks. Anne just keeps walking with her eyes glued to the folder in her hand, wanting to get back to her personal quarters so that she can read the file as soon as she can while Spock turns back to Barnett. As soon as the door shuts behind the captain, the Admiral begins speaking. "Commander, you are aware of Starfleet's personnel relationship restrictions, am I correct?" He asks in a loud voice.

"Certainly, Admiral," Spock says, looking at Barnett with his eyes betraying his usually emotionless face in puzzlement.

"So you understand that a relationship with your captain would be inappropriate unless deemed otherwise by the board." Barnett confirms.

"I am afraid that I do not understand the direction in which this conversation is moving," Spock says. Suddenly the Admiral's voice drops to a whisper once again.

"Captain Kirk is in grave danger, especially after what I have handed you both. I need you to watch out for her, as I will likely be dead in 24 hours because of the information I have put in those folders, is this understood Commander?" he questions, his voice again taking its usual tone towards the end of his sentence.

"Affirmative." Spock replies, his mind racing with this newly found information.

"Good. I hope to see you tonight at the ceremony," the Admiral laughs. "Make sure that you both read these before then," he adds quietly, looking pointedly at the folder in Spock's hand. Barnett walks to the door and pulls it open, non-verbally dismissing the Vulcan.

Throughout his walk back to his quarters, Spock's mind mulls over the conversation he had with the Admiral. A few phrases cycle through his head, "_…grave danger… watch out… I will likely be dead… information in those folders…"_ he repeats these things in his head, even though they are already engraved in his mind. Spock's mood is not a good one; he has a feeling that things are going to get bad, quickly. But the single sequence of words that returns to his mind is what worries him most._ "Captain Kirk is in grave danger."_


	2. The Folders' Contents

Anne is looking at the folder that Admiral Barnett gave her, laying on her stomach and fingering through the few papers that sit in it, still in her yellow command uniform. With her feet up in the air behind her, her head snaps up when she hears a knock on her door.

"Give me a second!" she calls before shoving the contents back into the folder, concealing the file, and getting up off of her bed. She glances herself over in the mirror, fixing her loose ponytail before she tells the computer to open the door.

"Anne!" Nyota cheers while practically jumping up and down, and entering the room with a blindingly white smile upon her beautiful face. Anne looks at her communications officer, noting that she is still in her Starfleet-mandated dress as well. Her long black hair sits in a high ponytail, straight as a pin. "Did you hear about the ceremony?" she interrogates, looking at her best friend and captain curiously.

"Yeah, yeah," Anne replies mindlessly, her mind still on the folder that she put under her pillow so that it could remain top-secret. She glances to the bed, happy when she sees no trace of it being there, hiding under the white bedspread.

"Well what are you going to wear?" She questions suggestively, waggling her eyebrows while she shimmies. Apparently, she missed her captain's look or she decided to ignore it. "What am I going to wear?" She gasps, worried about her appearance.

"What the hell do you mean, Nyota?" Anne retorts with a frown, looking back at her friend. She's confused as to where Nyota is taking this, especially the former statement, but has a gut feeling that is has something to do with the linguist's recent break-up with a certain science officer. Anne never asked for the details, she decided that Nyota would spill if she wanted and it wasn't any of her business anyway.

"Oh, this is bullshit. I know, and everyone else knows for that matter, that you have a thing for Spock. You pretend you don't, but girl it is obvious: you both have it so bad. And what makes it even funnier is that you both have no idea how the other feels," Nyota chastises.

Anne glares in her friend's direction. "What do you mean 'how the other feels'?" She asks in a deadly tone before turning to the offensive. "My feelings toward Spock are completely professional," she insistently lies. "Plus, I doubt that, even if I did have un-professional feelings for him, he would return said feelings." She waves her arms around, attempting to prove a point.

"Anne, he is so head over heels for you; but again, he chooses to ignore it like the, as you would put it 'pointy-eared bastard' that he is," Nyota responds quickly with a sigh.

"Okay, Nyota, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Spock is my first officer. It would be so wrong to have a non-professional relationship with him, no matter how we both feel. Not to mention _against the rules_," Anne emphasizes, again flailing her arms around like a madman.

"When have you ever listened to the goddamned rules?" Nyota asks while pointing at the blonde in front of her before turning to leave. "The ceremony starts at 2030 hours. I'll be back here at 1900. Then we are going to make you look perfect," she tells her captain. She turns her back, walking towards the door, hips swaying in sync with her hair before the door whooshes behind her.

For once, Anne feels like she isn't the captain of the USS _Enterprise_, but Nyota's kid. Anne goes back to her bed; lying again on her stomach, she opens the file again and thoroughly reads it, picking up a long note. It could be considered a letter, but Anne just ignores that and reads the paper.

_Captain Kirk and Commander Spock,_

_The Federation has much changed since your departure five years ago. A few months after you left, a man by the name of Thomas Wilkes joined Starfleet with the intention of overthrowing Starfleet Command. Roughly two years ago, he succeeded. Anyone who turned against him or his gang was killed, and many of us learned our lesson and went along with his psychotic plans. I hate to say that, in some ways, our actions completely demoralize the intentions of Starfleet as a whole. _

_He shut down Command's communication systems in the hope that the _Enterprise_ would not find her way home. He knows that you two would be key players in taking him down, which is why he wanted you both out of the way. Now that you both are back, he will likely take the necessary measures to dispose of you, which is why I am warning you before he gets the chance._

_Now on to what he's done in his "time of reign", those are his words, not mine. He's really changed things up: from our government to military affairs to finances to even things like marriage. He controls everyone's lives, from jobs to even people's deaths. I hate to tell you this, but at the ceremony he is planning to throw, you will all be paired off and expected to marry whomever he puts you with. Kirk, I know for a fact that you have been paired with him, he's made that painfully clear. I know that contradicts what I said about him wanting you dead, but he had a feeling getting rid of you wouldn't be that easy, so he created a backup plan in case you were to return. No one knows what this plan is except for him. He's only said that he will have you for a wife, and none of us doubt that.  
_

_No one has known how to overthrow him successfully; many have tried, and all have been killed. This is the reason I am telling you two all of this. If the Federation has any chance of beating this guy, it starts with you two. Starfleet Command (or what's left of it) has been secretly meeting and has decided that you two are the most trustworthy of all our officers and that you will be able to help us through these dark times that we will undoubtedly encounter. _

_Unfortunately, I do not think that Wilkes will stop at anything until this universe is "perfect", which in his mind is likely without non-human races. He has shown disgust towards any creature, humanoid or not, that wasn't 100 percent human. You two are smart enough to figure out where I am going with this statement._

Anne gasps in realization as she sees what Barnett means. Her eyes get a small flash of determination in protection of her first officer as she understands that if he gets the chance, he will kill Spock. She pictures her friend being brutally tortured, his green blood sliding down his perfect face and experiences a sharp pang in her heart. Despite her attempts to keep herself from it, because she rarely cries, Anne feels a few tears fall down her cheeks. Already, Anne feels a strong hatred toward this man. _Who the fucking fuck does he think he fucking is? _She curses in her head. _I will kill this son of a bitch,_ Anne vows to herself and to Spock as well. After a good five minutes of going back and forth between cursing this bastard and sitting depressed and hopeless, Anne returns her attention to the file at her elbows. She searches the file until she comes across the letter again and begins to read it, starting where she had stopped.

_But keep in mind that I'm only guessing here, this is worst-case scenario. Kirk, don't do anything rash, it will only tip him off to what you know. Until you come up with a course of action, I strongly suggest that you act remaining oblivious to the entire situation; don't do anything to piss him off. Spock, he hasn't done anything about his hatred of other races yet, I just want you to be aware of what may happen. Kirk, get on his good side, you may be able to win him over if you're _persuasive _enough. _

_In the folder, I have attached all of the information I feel is most necessary for his downfall. He's very pompous and arrogant, so if you want to find something out about him, it shouldn't be too hard because he is full of himself. It's easy to find information on him if you know where to look. Good luck, Kirk. Spock, live long and prosper._

_Regards,_

_Admiral Barnett_

_(PS. Burn this file the first chance you get.)_

Anne flips through the file on this Thomas Wilkes character and notices that his face seems familiar. He's got an angular one with deep-set sea green eyes that seem to pierce the soul. His hair is light brown and wavy, cut a bit short. He appears to be muscular and Anne admits that he is attractive. _But not as attractive as Spock,_ she thinks with a snort. Turning her mind back to where she may know this guy from, it hits her like lightning.

_Shit_, she thinks as she remembers that he's the guy on the "Our Leader" posters and that she ran into him when she and Spock were going into Barnett's office. _So he is as big-headed as Barnett said, and that would explain the suggestive look he gave me as he walked out if the admiral's office, _the young captain thinks. A light blush crawls its way into her cheeks as she remembers the Vulcan holding her after she ran right into him and he put his hands on her waist to help her from falling. Turning her head back to the file, an idea strikes her and she hurriedly grabs her communicator off of the side table. "Kirk to Spock," she says quickly, hoping that he's on the other end.

"Spock here," he replies. A small smile crosses her face as she knows that he's okay.

"Come to my quarters immediately," she says. "That's an order," she quickly adds even though she knows that it's not necessary because he'll come anyway. Flipping the communicator shut, she runs to the bathroom and fixes herself up, because she can't look too good if she's been crying like she has. She tosses some cold water onto her face and wipes it off with a towel. Roughly, she tugs the hair tie out of her blonde locks and tosses them back into a sloppy side ponytail, letting the hair cascade down her small shoulders and fall just above her waist in its natural wavy fashion. She sees that it's going to be obvious to Spock that she has been crying, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red. She fixes her rumpled dress as she hears a knock on the door.

Walking into the main room of her quarters, Anne is sure to grab the manila folder that's sitting on her bed and she orders the door open. Spock is waiting expectantly on the other side and Anne almost jumps for joy seeing him there. She can't even put into words how relieved she is to see him, still perfect. She waves him in and he follows her instruction while he looks her up and down.

"You are bothered," he states in an even voice, stepping further into the small, homely vicinity of his captain's personal quarters.

"No, I'm not," she lies insistently, shaking her head vigorously.

"Julie-Anne, you and I both know that this is a false statement," he points out. There is only one person in the entire universe that Anne allows to call her by her given name, and that one person just did. She lets Spock call her Julie-Anne because she can't deny that he says it so well and makes it sound like the holiest name of all time. Whenever someone else calls her Julie-Anne, she flips out in a fit of rage that most people consider unwarranted, so most people don't call her by her given name because they don't feel like facing her awful wrath. _If only they knew why I hate my name,_ Anne thinks, turning her attention back to Spock.

"Okay, so maybe I'm not okay," she admits willingly, shrugging slightly. Anne sees the smallest twitch of Spock's lips as he tries not to smile. "I just read the file Barnett gave us, and it's eating away at me," she explains.

"Captain, I do not understand how a file could possibly 'eat' you," Spock comments, his confusion obvious in his eyes. Even though he's been in the company of humans for some time now, he fails to see the "logic" behind some of their odd statements.

"It's an illogical human expression to say that something is bothering you," Anne explains in a vernacular that her first officer would be more likely to understand.

"I see," Spock tells her. "You requested my presence?" he queries, looking at her thoughtfully. He's still standing a few steps, possibly five feet, inside the doorway, hands folded behind his back as usual and his posture like a rod.

"Oh, yeah," she remembers why she called him to her quarters in the first place. "I have an idea," she says with a guilty look.

"This will not be a 'good' one," Spock retorts with as much humor as a Vulcan can have. This earns a smile from Anne as she begins to explain her thought process.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Anne is finished with her sharing, watching Spock for any trace of emotion. He must really be trying to hide it, because she can't see a damn thing. They sit on her cream colored sofa with a small mahogany table in front of them, the contents of the folder splayed out haphazardly across it.

"This is an illogical plan, as it puts you in danger. But I see no other, more logical alternative to the predicament at hand," Spock says, looking her in the eye. Anne tries to keep her heart from melting when he does this. And she tries to not jump across the sofa and make out with him, but that's a different story. Anne considers her first officer's words in an attempt to distract her.

"You just said this plan puts me in danger," she comments. "When in fact, it puts me in no immediate danger," she smiles brightly, thinking she has won.

"The key word, Captain, in your sentence is 'immediate'. You would be in no immediate danger, but there is always danger when it comes to you. This I have come to learn over time," he points out, remembering all of the away missions where she had managed to get herself into trouble and or hurt.

With a huff, Anne accepts this conclusion and crosses her arms as a young child would. "So are we doing this or not?" she demands, wanting an answer. Spock does the Vulcan equivalent of what Anne considers a sigh before responding, his voice uncommonly uneven.

"As I have previously stated, I see no other logical alternative to the present situation." He agrees solemnly.

* * *

**_A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has added this to their favorites or follows! I would also like to thank my Beta, who has offered me wonderful advice on improving my writing. With that, that was the second installment of The Dictatorship. I hope to update again within the next week, and remember that reviews help inspire my writing! -sr.75_**


	3. Banquet Gone Bad

"This one," Nyota says, pulling an emerald green dress from the back Anne's closet. For the past ten minutes, Nyota has been picking through her captain's wardrobe in search of a dress to wear to the banquet. The entire time, Anne just nods her head, agreeing with whatever her communications officer says because usually she doesn't care how she looks. However, tonight, she probably should. Anne turns away from her window, from the perfect view of the bay before her, to examine the garment Nyota has pulled. The green dress is floor-length and strapless, pulled in at the waist and corseted in the back. The chiffon bottom creates a beautiful A-line which Nyota tells her will make her look taller. Glancing at the bust, Anne determines that this dress will indeed do its task.

"That one," she confirms. Nyota smiles brightly and pulls her to the bathroom. Strewn across the floor are heaps of dresses that Nyota told Anne to try on but later denied.

"So, for you I'm thinking we should do a smoky eye look to go with the whole emerald green scheme that you're going to have going on." Nyota says, shuffling through all of the beauty products that she hauled over from her personal quarters just down the hall in a huge box. Scattered across the crème colored counter in front of the impeccable clean mirror is an array of eye shadow and liner in a multitude of colors, blush, and lipstick and a bunch of other makeup. Sitting next to the makeup are at least three different curling irons, two straighteners, and a crimping tool. Nyota continues to ramble about how good Anne is going to look before she's abruptly cut off.

"Nyota, I honestly do not care as long as I'm not going in my underwear," Anne explains, sighing. She honestly does not understand why her best communications officer is concerned so much about her appearance; she is already the most beautiful woman that Anne has ever met. Except maybe herself, but that's just the captain's massive ego talking.

"Then can I work my magic?" her friend asks with a hopeful smile.

"Go ahead." Nyota jumps up and down, clapping her manicured hands, excited for the chance to make her friend even more beautiful than she already is.

An hour later, the women are dressed in their gowns and Anne is waiting impatiently for Nyota, who is sporting a short, blood red dress that hugs her figure. Anne looks to her friend, waiting for her to stop fussing over her perfectly curled hair.

"Oh my _God_, you look perfect," Anne says, tapping her black flat on the floor to a slow beat. The noise echoes slightly throughout the room as she watches Nyota places the curling iron back onto the counter in the bathroom.

"I guess I do," Nyota resigns, dropping her hands to her sides. She turns to Anne in order to gauge her reaction to the question she's about to ask. "Anne, are you sure you want to do this?" She questions hesitantly, eyeing her captain nervously. Earlier, Spock had agreed that it be in the interest of her safety that Anne tell all the senior officers of the plan. No one had been happy about it and they protested for an hour in attempts to keep their friend safe. But she had put her foot down, telling them that the plan was set, she was only informing them of the events to come. She doesn't have a chance to respond before she hears a ding and when she snaps her head towards the door, Nyota sighs.

"Shut the hell up," Anne snaps before ordering the door open. Bones steps in, wearing a white button-up shirt and black trousers with his blue Starfleet Medical tie, looking very uncomfortable. He tugs at his tie before he gives up and shoves his hands in his pockets. Looking up at his best friend, his jaw slacks at the sight of her not in her usual yellow command dress.

"God damn," he says, looking at his best friend, not expecting her appearance.

"Bones, I don't give a fuck as to how I look," Anne responds sharply, her arms crossed. She is frowning upon the doctor's behavior, despite the fact that she loves attention.

"You look like you just fell from heaven or some shit-ass sappy line like that," he clarifies, clearing his throat and glancing back down at his polished black shoes.

Anne feels the blood rush to her face, turning her angular cheeks pink. "Thanks," she says in a small voice, turning away from her CMO awkwardly.

"Well," Nyota interjects, "we should get going." She states with finality in an attempt to keep the situation from becoming even more awkward than it already is.

The heavy bass pounds through the floor of Starfleet Headquarters' banquet hall. Spock stands on the dance floor, looking out of place while searching for Anne in the spot she will most likely head to first. To anyone who looks at the Vulcan, he looks as stoic as ever. But internally, Spock is having trouble keeping up his cool facade. His brown eyes scan the room, desperate to find the face that haunts him endlessly. Feeling her presence behind him through their bond _(which she is unaware of)_, faintly but surely, he turns around to see her dancing her way towards him. His jaw slightly drops and he twitches a bit as he sees her looking ravishing in the green dress that he's starting to have inappropriate thoughts about tearing off.

No matter how hard his attempts, Spock can't bring himself to bring his eyes away from her stunning appearance. Even her hair is perfect, twisted into a low ponytail that cascades down her left shoulder, her dirty blonde hair creating a starting contrast to the makeup that adorns her face. Spock believes that is called a "smoky eye", and her lips have a deep red tint that pull his eyes down. For a moment, Spock is unsure if the dress will do its intended job, but as Anne gets closer, he sees the extent of the flattering dress and how the dress accentuates her curves as well as her breasts, which by most males' standards are too small, but Spock would care to disagree.

He feels his pulse rise as he fights the urge to close the distance between them. She must have the same idea as she takes charge and eliminates the space between their bodies, wrapping her arms around his neck. She rises onto her toes and hugs him tightly, her head resting lazily on his broad and muscular shoulder when she breaks their silence.

"To sell it," she whispers, her warm breath tickling the point of his ear. Spock lightly returns the embrace, his muscles moving without being commanded when the sweet scent of freshly picked lavender reaches his nose. He knows that she is acting, that this is just part of their plan, but Spock can't help but wish that this was real and she was doing this of her own accord because she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. Attempting to pull himself together, he compliments her.

"Captain, may I attempt to convey how astonishing you look this evening?" he questions. In response, Anne pulls back, returning to her normal height and looks at her first officer.

"Spock," she says. "Do you mean that?" she asks, wide-eyed with a small smile gracing her features.

"Certainly," he replies emotionlessly. Anne is about to reply, but before she can say anything the pair hears three taps on a microphone. Their heads whip to the disc jockey's station and they see none other than Thomas Wilkes. He's dressed in a black suit and around his neck sits a golden bow-tie. Anne winces at the painful sight of his outfit, practically curling into Spock to shield her from the atrocity.

"Good evening, crew of the USS _Enterprise_, I'm Thomas Wilkes and I will gladly be your host this evening. Dinner is being finished up as I speak, so I hope you're all hungry for a good home-cooked meal," he laughs. "In case you were unaware of the occasion for tonight's ceremony, I'll tell you. It is to congratulate you all on a job well done and to look forward to your futures." Wilkes looks toward the young captain and their eyes meet before he looks her up and down with a hungry look in his green eyes. "With that, everyone: bonne appetite!"

Taking Spock's arm, Anne leads them to the table with their names on it. They're sitting with Bones, Scotty, Uhura, Chekov and Sulu, chatting quietly when the first course comes around. It's a create-your-own salad which they bring around in bowls. They have toppings from cheese to chicken to tomatoes and more all placed on their table and ready for consumption. Anne reaches over to the bowl of lettuce and picks up a small amount of the leafy green. Looking over the options of toppings, she decides to keep it simple and puts only cheddar cheese in her salad.

"Captain, are you certain that the amount of nourishment that you intend to consume will be enough to satisfy your nutritional requirements?" Spock asks, glancing at the salad in front of Anne. In response, she glares at the science officer, her bright blue eyes that can only be described as "hers" looks over him. Her heart seems to skip multiple beats in her chest as she notes for the first time what he is actually dressed in. The baby blue dress uniform hugs his skin and the gold piping along the edges makes him look a bit pale in the hall, which is drowned in dim lighting that causes a few of the medals on Spock's chest to gleam. Looking back at his face, Anne realizes that Spock has been watching her in wait for a response.

"Yes, Spock; this should help to satisfy my nutritional needs. Keep in mind that most upscale Earth meals are served in three courses," she replies smoothly, drizzling a bit of ranch dressing over her small plate.

"That is highly illogical," Spock comments while turning back to the empty plate in front of him. Anne nods in agreement before the pair gets quiet, Anne eating her salad and Spock looking ahead stoically, the silence between them filled as their crewmembers chat idly amongst themselves.

As Anne glances around, she notes the way that her chief engineer is looking at Nyota. She smiles back at the engineer in a flirty manner, occasionally laughing at one of his incredibly bad jokes. _He _so_ likes her. _Anne thinks. _And she _so_ likes him back._ _It's too bad that we're all going to be paired off and expected to marry. I wonder who I'd get stuck with if I wasn't going to be placed with Wilkes._ She eyes her first officer subtly as she continues to ponder. _I hope I'd get "stuck" with Spock, because I would _so _hate that._ She adds sarcastically. An idea strikes Anne and she turns to her first officer. "Thpock," she says, mispronouncing the Vulcan's name while turning to him with her mouth stuffed full of salad.

"Captain, it is inappropriate to speak with your mouth full," Spock chastises as Anne realizes that she has a forkful of salad in her mouth. She swallows quickly, her gulp audible to the Vulcan next to her.

"Sorry," she apologizes, looking at him sheepishly. "I was just wondering…" she trails off, wondering if it's safe to ask her question at the moment. Thinking her options over, she decides that pulling Spock from the room and whisking him into a supply closet would be effective to the plan and allow her to ask her question. "Come with me?" She asks, batting her eyelashes at him while making what she would describe to be a "puppy-dog" face.

"Certainly, Captain," Spock responds, standing from his seat, giving in to his illogical want of being close to her.

Anne stands with him, brushing her skirt free of any debris. She shoots a suggestive look to Nyota for two reasons. One: she can see her flirting with Scotty through her suggestive looks and classic flirtatious moves, and two: to help sell the plan. Nyota glances back at Anne, a knowing wink accompanying her sly grin before she turns back to Scotty. Spock offers his arm and Anne gladly takes it, looking at her first officer somewhat mushily. They exit the banquet hall and walk silently but quickly down the hallways. Anne sees a figure up ahead and notes a storage closet up ahead. As they approach the figure, Anne is able to make out Thomas Wilkes's face. _Perfect,_ she thinks as she pulls Spock into the storage closet. It's small in there and Anne takes charge, shoving the Vulcan back against the now closed door.

"Captain, what are you doing?" Spock asks, not bothering to hide the confusion in his voice. He can't help the odd feeling he gets in his stomach when he sees the little space separating them and her deep blue eyes gazing into his emotional brown ones. He resists the tug in his head to give in to his inappropriate desires that plague his usually logical mind.

"Play along," Anne instructs, pulling him back to her. She wraps her arms around his neck and removes the distance between their bodies. He relaxes a bit in her grasp, his muscles involuntarily loosening. She's on her toes, about to make a move when the door swings open, revealing Thomas. Anne hides her face, pretending to be embarrassed, but a smile pulls at her lips, knowing that her plan had worked. She notes that Spock has stiffened again, and wonders why he was even relaxed a minute ago to begin with.

"Excuse me," Wilkes says, his posture stiffening to become tenser than a rod, closing the door quickly. The pair stands in silence, hearing the fading footsteps of the ruthless dictator scurrying away from his awkward and maddening discovery.

"Fantastic," Anne whispers, her face still buried in Spock's chest. She basks in the warmth radiating from his body, inhaling his scent that is efficiently succeeding in seducing her.

"How do you mean?" Her first officer responds, looking at the stunning woman before him. He feels his mind begin to wander at how wonderful it feels to have her in front of him in a somewhat romantic situation. Pulling himself together, he looks down at Anne expectantly.

She looks up at him before explaining, her arms still around his neck. "It'll make him jealous to think that I have a non-professional relationship with you. It'll make him more vulnerable. If he thinks that we care for one another in an unprofessional manner, then logically, because he wants me as his own, he'll get defensive whenever I'm around you; resulting hopefully in his other senses becoming diluted. Hence, he should be more vulnerable and easier to take down." _Well, if he thought that you care for me unprofessionally. Because it already applies to me since I'm trying really hard to not kiss you right now, _Anne adds in her head.

Spock pales a bit before clearing his throat, as if he could read Anne's thoughts. _She should be informed of the bond_, he thinks. He remembers how long he's kept it from her and he is unsure if he can do it any longer. He first suspected it when Vulcan was destroyed by Nero and he felt her sympathy for him, and the idea was confirmed when she endeavored into the radiation chamber to save the crew as he felt half of his soul separated from him. It was odd that he had been able to survive her death; he wasn't even sure how he did it. If he believed in miracles, he may go far enough to say that it was one; but Spock doesn't believe in miracles. "Julie-Anne," he starts. She stops him by putting a finger to his lips and shushing him. Due to his touch-telepathy, Spock can feel her dominant emotions:

_Hope, fright, satisfaction, worry, very strong affection, lust, _and for a moment, Spock even thinks he can feel _love _coming from his captain.

He successfully conceals his confusion from her, but it is becoming harder for him to hide the animalistic side of the Vulcan species that has remained buried away from any non-Vulcan for thousands of years as he feels her soft touch lingering on his lips even after she lowers her hands back to her sides.

"We should be getting back," she whispers, avoiding his eyes. She can't believe that she let her emotions control her for even a moment; around Spock of all people. She opens the door, squinting as her eyes adjust to the bright light of the pristine halls. Despite Spock wanting to confess to her, he offers Anne his arm before they head back to the banquet hall. While wandering the white walkways, Anne remembers that there was a specific reason that she had asked Spock to meet privately with her, a reason that she cannot remember. She watches her feet as they walk, their feet barely making any noise against the marble floor.

Upon returning to the hall, the pair realizes that apparently, they were gone long enough that they missed the remainder of the meal and the crew is now sitting quietly as the tables are being cleared. They re-take their places at the table, everyone sending them odd looks minus Scotty, who is still ogling at Uhura. They all sit in silence for several moments before hearing the host talk once again.

"I hope you all enjoyed your meal," Thomas says in a fake-caring voice that Anne recognizes as the one that girls always used around her when they were trying to get on her good side for one reason or another. "Now, it is time to look to your bright futures on Earth."

There was indistinct murmuring as everyone looked at one another, confused as to what Wilkes means.

"Unfortunately, only one of you will be returning to the stars due to new Starfleet protocol, which clearly states that at age eighteen, you will be paired by the Leader with someone of the opposite sex to procreate with and spend the rest of your life with, married. After the age of twenty-four, there will be no space travel for the paired in order to insure their safety for a healthy family lifestyle," he explains. "Now, on to the pairing!" He adds cheerfully. Anne couldn't help but notice that he said "the Leader" without pointing out that he was the leader, which stands out in her mind because Barnett said he was pompous. _Speaking of Barnett, I haven't seen him since this afternoon, _Anne thinks while her brow burrows in confusion. _I thought for sure he'd be here_.

"I will call a female's name and she will stand. A picture of her partner will appear on the large screen behind me. Then, said male will stand in order to make his presence known, and they will then sit back down to later leave and return to the male's home, where they are expected to learn more about one another," Thomas instructs.

Everyone sits in their seats, dumbfounded. Spock's face is a mask of emotionlessness while Anne acts surprised, looking around at all of her friends, who are also playing their astonishment, shock and confusion well. Looking around at her crew, Anne notes the nervous muttering that has begun to spread along with the few people who are wringing their hands, something that has always annoyed the young captain.

"Ensign Williams, Yvonne I.," Wilkes begins. A woman who looks to be twenty-four stands awkwardly. She has beautiful blonde hair that she's wearing down past her shoulders. She's dressed in a medium-length light pink dress with short sleeves that complement her thin stature. She looks to the screen nervously, waiting to find out who her partner will be and she smiles when Chekov's face comes up on the screen. Anne glances at her young friend who appears to be happy with who he has been paired with.

The next few hours pass similarly, with Wilkes calling people out and assigning them to their partners. Anne is glad to see that the woman Bones is paired with looks nice, unlike the woman Sulu got stuck with. The captain nearly jumps for joy when Uhura and Scotty are paired to one another. They deserve each other. There are a few people remaining to be called when Wilkes gets a mischievous smirk on his face.

"Nurse Chapel, Christine C.," the host calls from the front. Nurse Chapel stands, and Anne can't help but to feel sick at the sight of her head nurse. She's always had a huge crush on Spock, which Anne didn't take to very well due to her own feelings towards the Vulcan. She has her hair down, pin-straight with an ugly bump in the front above her forehead. Anne wants to vomit as she sees the dress that Chapel's wearing: black, extremely short and tight, and shows way too much cleavage. _Ever since that day… _Anne ponders what Christine would be like if they hadn't had that huge argument over nothing. The nurse watches the screen with her eyes squinted, as if willing the screen to show Spock. Much to Anne's displeasure, her first officer's face appears on the screen and Chapel smiles smugly, looking right at her captain. _If that bitch even thinks about touching him…_ Anne threatens in her head protectively. She looks to Spock who looks just as displeased as his captain, his usually emotionless face betraying his true thoughts.

Several minutes later, Anne is the only one who remains unpaired and she stands gloomily as she already knows the unfortunate outcome of this.

"Captain Kirk, Julie-Anne T.," Wilkes calls smoothly, looking at her hungrily. He turns back to the screen in order to see his face pop up. Anne silently hopes that there is some malfunction and she won't be paired with this psychopath, but her wishes are violently shot down when Thomas's portrait is shown on the screen. She unhappily plops into her seat as Thomas begins speaking again.

"That's all for tonight's banquet. Thank you all for coming, and don't forget that you will be going home with your partners tonight," he announces, dismissing the group. Everyone stands up, with the exception of Anne and Spock, and finds their way to their partners before leaving. Anne sees Chapel approaching and fights the urge to punch the nurse's face in as she obviously mentally undresses Spock. "Good evening, Captain," Christine acknowledges before turning to Spock. "Ready to ditch this place?" She asks him seductively and he nods, not noting her tone. He turns to his captain quickly and leans down.

"Good luck," he wishes as he presses two fingers into her palm, kissing her the Vulcan way. Anne is stunned silent as she feels a black hole grow in her stomach in realization. _Does he like me back?_ Debating the idea in her mind, Anne is excited at the prospect of Spock possibly feeling the same way that she does, but also feels despair in not knowing for sure. Knowing that her first officer wouldn't do anything without meaning, Anne wonders why he kissed her to begin with. _As part of the plan? _She questions. _But that was never part of the plan. _She argues. _Why me?_ She sits in silence, utterly confused at her own behavior as well as Spock's. As she sees Thomas making his way over to her, changed out of that horrid suit and now in a black t-shirt and jeans, she forgets the previous conversation she went over in her head and reveled in the fact that the Vulcan had shown her affection.

_He just kissed me._ Anne states disbelievingly in her mind. _He kissed me._


End file.
